The first time I dropped off my three-year-old at bush kinder, she was in a T-shirt and sandals. In hindsight, it was such a rookie error. Of course she needed long sleeves and closed shoes. The teacher explained that long sleeves provided better protection. If there were any cuts or nicks, a bit of coverage could make a difference.
I never made that mistake again. There was a lot to learn at bush kinder, a kindergarten program held in the parklands of inner Melbourne. The theory behind it was great: nature play improves children’s wellbeing, social and emotional development, cognitive language and physical skills – a string of nice words that I definitely wanted for my daughter. But really I was mainly glad she was outside. No screens. No toys. No equipment. Just what she needed after two years of lockdowns.
Three-year-old bush kinder was three hours every week. She went, armed with snacks, gumboots and rain pants. She wore a sticker with a phone number on her back in case she wandered off. (I was told this was a precaution and not something that was likely to happen.) She learned to use a camping toilet even though there was a toilet block with actual plumbing. And she went there rain, hail or shine, recording a new personal best for putting on a rain jacket (hood first, arms in, zip up) in every session.
When the fundamentals were mastered, her group did trail walks, exploring the creek, looking at different animals, insects and plants, and observing how they change over the seasons.
It was a big step-up the following year. Four-year-old bush kinder was seven and a half hours a week. Every session was an adventure. Angus got a bloody nose and Oscar was stung by a bee. Once Ranger Pete came to talk about fire safety. They built a campfire, learning to read the direction of the smoke before each child placed a stick on the fire.
Her time outdoors has sparked a kind of curiosity, confidence and resilience that I had not expected.
When she found a dead possum in our back yard, she hypothesised, as they did at bush kinder, what had happened. She was not perturbed by the discovery. Instead, she went looking for clues, concluding that it had been attacked by a naughty cat and not a watchful owl. She was certain that it was in fact a possum and not a rat or a mouse (because of its size). She said she would report it to Ranger Pete.
Her confidence comes from being organised and prepared. The sticker on her back is a lesson in letting someone know where you are. When I forgot to put one on her she reminded me to do it. We checked the weather the night before every session and decided what to wear and pack together.
On the eve of a 37C day, her dad and I weren’t sure if we should send her. She was only four. It wasn’t bootcamp. But we were assured by the teachers that the children learn to find shade and stay hydrated. We could call any time and parents whose child could benefit from an early pickup would be notified.
So she went along with two frozen water bottles, watermelon and ice packs to keep her lunch cool. We got the call to pick her up an hour early. She had managed six hours. She didn’t love it. She was cross with me for taking so long to get her. But by the time bush kinder came around again, it was already forgotten.
I feel incredibly lucky to have had this for her. Her program is considered and well planned. There are policies and controls covering emergency evacuation, dog awareness, snake awareness and more. I had not read any of them at the start but I have read them all now. She is kept safe while still being exposed to unpredictability.
She starts school next year and there is a lot of talk of “school readiness”. Bush kinder hasn’t taught her numbers or letters but it has given her stories, experiences and life skills that will ground her for years to come. She is ready no matter what path she takes, whatever the weather may be.
• Lucille Wong is a Melbourne writer and a mother of two
